Dolce&Gabbana S/S16: L'inno all'Italia

Milan Fashion Week is over. A week discussed and subdued compared to previous editions.
I begin this summary from my great love, Dolce&Gabbana, and their spring/summer 2016, a tribute to Italy.
The collection "Italy is Love" is really a tribute to the country's monuments like the Colosseum and wonderful places like Portofino, Venice, Capri, whose postcard images are shown on dresses, suits, blouses and skirts. The Dolce&Gabbana ultra-feminine woman, with the femininity of the past, choosing her outfit to enjoy the beauties of our country.
 Embroidered flowers, frills and corsets, colorful prints, red and black, transparencies, brocade fabrics and sailor stripes. Each dress a glimpse of the island or a gondola ride, every outfit a moment to savor and a photograph to be captured.
As always, an original walkway and set, the models, in fact, interpret the foreign tourists just landed in the beautiful country, represented by a set with tables, pottery shop and souvenirs, and also a theater of puppets.
And between Venice and the moon, Capri and the sea, I dream.

Dolce&Gabbana e il rossetto dedicato a Sophia Loren

The Italian diva Sophia Loren has been 81 years and Dolce&Gabbana celebrate her with a lipstick dedicated to her: Sophia Loren N1.

A cherry red, creamy, fragrant and unmistakable, created especially for her and for her lips.

"It's our way of saying: " Thanks Sophia! ". Thank's to her beauty, thank's because she is the most popular, she's the image of cinema and Italian beauty. A perennial source of inspiration. Today we celebrate her giving her lipstick." So they say Domenico Dolce and Stefano Gabbana.

The gold packaging is even more valuable: the cap, in fact, bears the signature of the diva that, for the first time is also the star of the campaign.

Le cose belle accadono

Good things happen. Happen when you don't expect it, when you don't look for, when you don't think about it.
Sometimes there are not just as we had imagined. Sometimes they are simply better.
The most beautiful things are born suddenly. It's useless damned, it is useless to program the loves, the days, things to do. The most beautiful things hit you when you don't expect it. they are those things, small and impalpable, that break down the soul.

An unexpected message.
The wonder of a chance encounter.
The sound of the waves and the light of the stars at night, sitting on the sand.
A sudden smile.
The message from a friend telling you that she loves you.
Dinner, barefoot, on the seashore.
An impromptu trip.
The laughter, true and full of life, until you have evil in the abdominal.
The last pair of shoes, "looks, just your number."

Beautiful things are so unpredictable. And maybe they are "good" for this. Because they don't arrive when you expect it, as that ray of sunshine after a rainy day, and they always know how to give you a smile.

"Give every day the chance to be the most beautiful of your life."

Parlami di te... Di me? Va bene, siediti!

"Tell me about you...."
How many times people have asked me to talk about myself, to describe myself. How many times the person in question has remained in awe, thinking, perhaps, that question would be best avoided.
How many times I thought "are you sure?", with that half smile just mentioned, and then respond: "... Okay, sit down."
Simplicity. A word that is NOT me, has that meaning hidden between the lines of something obvious. And I have never been obvious. In all senses.
People like me have always a price to pay. The price of not being understood.
I am a complicated person. Very complicated.
I have a few advantages and many defects. I am suspicious, moody -even here, too mood ... I cry, I laugh, I get mad, I laugh again- stubborn, impulsive, impatient, little sweet, indeed "selectively sweet", as a friend told me long ago, I not sent to tell and I do not trust anyone but myself. And we could sum it all up with one word: UNBEARABLE, especially in those days NO. Those days when I wish I had a desert island all to myself, those in which I do not stand alone, let alone people who live me!
I'm a lion, sign and fact. You know that beautiful big cat, all combed, with that face so sweet (especially a puppy), able to charm anyone at his vision, no?!
Proud, regal, alone. Quiet and peaceful in the cool of his acacia tree, until it is disturbed. Here, I am.
Lonely and selective. I love the solitude. Do not get me wrong, I love being in company and have fun with those "choose" people, but I also love being in the company of myself. I talk to everyone, but with a few laugh. I've always been a loner and selective, as a child. Rather than move, lose, give my time to people who do not deserve it or have nothing to give me (read: "enrich" humanly), I prefer the company of myself. I do not like to waste time, but this is an old story.
"Greatness is lonely. It seems indeed that loneliness is a condition of the size. All the higher intelligences, all higher natures live in isolation. The eagle lives alone, the lion alone."
By the time I learned to be enough. Not that it's been difficult!
There is no more difficult for those who know how to be alone. He learned to do the thing is more frightening in the world. So, he will never be willing to barter his loneliness with reports circumstance, nor with people seeking company just because they are afraid of the void.
I am a person who needs to go, where I do not know but I have to go. Try to restrain myself, it would like to put a lion in a cage. I need my space, my freedom, my silences. I need news, to know, to explore, to dream and pursue my dreams.
I do not need people who follow me, rather I need people who are able to keep my pace. If you are able to run then you get on the carousel , otherwise end of the race. For you.

A quell'Amica...la migliore!

The best friend is the one that at 8.15 writes you "Yesterday I screwed up" and begins the story.
The best friend is the one that supports you in every way. She's the one who believes in you even before yourself.
The best friend is the one you do not hear and do not see every day, but she's there, you feel her presence.
The best friend is the one who yells at you and loves you like a sister.
The best friend is the one who knows you more than one parent. The one that knows every millimeter of your skin, of your life. She's the one who knows every smile and every disappointment.
The best friend is the one that laughs and cries with you. The one that rejoices your success and espouse your problems.
The best friend is the one who knows your moments and your silence and knows how to respect them. The one that helps you without the need to ask anything. The one that remains silent and listens, really listens.
The best friend is the one who, in the days more gray, manages to snatch a smile. The one that has the solution to every problem.
The best friend is the one that will dry the tears.
The best friend is the one that "if he makes you suffer, he will to do with me!"
The best friend is the one with whom you would turn the world with a backpack and the "joy" in the heart.
The best friend is the one with whom to spend the night talking without feeling tiredness.
The best friend is the one who understands you at first glance. The onne that sends you a heart on whatsapp and makes you feel loved.
The best friend is the one who accepts you just as you are.
The best friend is the one that every day you thank for meeting her.

Total Denim Monday

Monday. The smell of coffee, the sound of rain falling, "5 more minutes and then I get up". Monday and that notebook full of deadlines and programs. Dreams and desires.
Monday, the green and blue that they join hands together in the journey of the week will be.
Monday, a new pair of sunglasses and a vintage bag.
Monday and a total denim look, the first and the last. Because I tried to be less doll or less princess, without "fru fru" dresses and flared skirts. But I'm not good. Moreover, if one is born princess she can not die gypsy, right ?! So keep me as well, princess inside.
Mondays in total denim, but also Tuesdays and Wednesdays, I leave it to someone else who definitely takes it better than me, from the next I go back to court...which is better!

Da certe donne non si torna indietro. MAI.

Do not fall in love with a woman who reads, a woman who feels too, of a woman who writes.

Do not fall in love with an educated, sorceress, delusional, crazy woman.

Do not fall in love with a woman who thinks, she knows to know, and that is also capable of flying, a woman who believes in herself.

Do not fall in love with a woman who laughs or cries while making love, which knows how to transform her spirit in the flesh and, even more, of a woman who loves poetry (they are the most dangerous), or of a woman who remain half an hour in front of a painting or who can not live without music.

Do not fall in love with an intense, playful, bright, rebellious, irreverent woman.

Not happen to you ever fall in love with a woman like that.

Because when you fall in love with a woman like that, she stays with you or not, whether she love you or not, to a woman like that no going back.

Never.

Se fosse un "SI"

I have to make an introduction: I do not believe in marriage and it is not in the "list of things to do before to die", then you know, never say never in life. Lately I do not believe in love, I'm disillusioned and cynical. But that's another long story, which I will not tell you now.

Do not get me wrong, sometimes even your princess dreamed the white dress. She also dreamed of a "possible ceremony" in an enchanted castle full of pink roses, with a horse-drawn carriage and a beautiful white dress, like any respecting princess. Yes, perhaps, as a child I watched too many times Cinderella!

By the time the ideas of this possible marriage have evolved, they have abandoned the great pomp and fairytales of Disney (shame on you!) to make room for something more "simple". Something that encompasses within itself all my "essence". And since I'm not a person related to the traditions, if that someone, for which it REALLY worth the effort, were to arrive, I'd say the fateful "Yes" around the world.

No churches, no "major" dresses, few guests (but good) and a stunning setting: a Caribbean beach or Kenya. Doubt vanished from the view of pictures by the Australian photographer Jonas Peterson, who immortalized the "yes" of this couple, Sebastian and Nina, in the Maasai Mara, wildlife reserve in southwestern Kenya where the photos were taken.

That is, if it should ever happen, I would have it so. A marriage that tastes of Africa, with all those elements who remember only to hear her mention: the Lion, the acacias, the zebras, the "tribal jewelry," the elephants and then they, the Maasai warriors with their -shuka- red blankets. Because "some places stay with you forever", and I got married with Africa the first time I met her.

Dolcemente complicata

She was a complicated person.
Complicated in the gestures, in the thoughts, to say words, even embrace. She was one of those people that, seemed to have struggled against something and now, now she just wanted to stand while being lost. She was one of those complex people smiling, always with the feet on the ground but with the head and heart elsewhere.
Complicated because she didn't saw only one color, but all the nuances, complex because she could not be content, no more.
Complicated because her thoughts were almost never light, many times weighed, crushed, but then, cradled between the notes of distant, listen, remember songs.
Complicated because she kept trying smiles, without tiring. Because she distinguished them. Because she said she would not make it, but then, with surprise get up and do not know how, take it forever. Complicated because she would not open at all, but only in front of a pair of honest eyes.
Without break up body and soul she was able to enter gently in the heart, without noise, without doing evil. But you heard it too, because she was able to touch and make vibrate gently with pure emotions ropes of this.
Complicated because she asked with the eyes and not with words, so damned incomprehensible.
Protecting and knew the extreme sweetness of loving, loaded on her shoulders the weight of the day, then trust any secret at night. She could protect against sudden storms. Often she flooded, but continued to breathe, without sinking.
She was one of those people that you would not say: they are beautiful. Perhaps because the complexity scares, lands, leaves you so: unprepared.
In front of the banality and a life devoted to frivolous, granted, no taste, she could give it to them, even when everything seemed to dry like a wilderness. Dry and off as rainy days.
She could sweep the monotony of gray and give color and flavor: that of dreams color of the sky, prairie color of hope, the red color of the lips, the love color of life.

Camogli, il mare e una lunga storia d'amore

It was August, there was the right company, that of a dear friend, peace, gentleness and serenity that only he can give me: the sea.
Camogli, that made me dream for the entire week, enchanting me with its glimpses and leaving me breathless with its sunsets.
After years of holidays abroad, I had the desire to "home", the desire of Italy. That Italy of scents and villages by the surreal charm.
Sometimes we Italians are just stupid, we go elsewhere looking for the wonder when, however, we have it in the hands. It was not the Caribbean Sea and even the Indian Ocean, but it was still love. We talked a lot, with the eyes and long silences, just wake up in the morning and at the sunset, in one of my usual walks. It made me its questions, as always, but then it let me give up in its arms, cradled me gently. And it was like being born again.